XXV.

Let those who are in favour with their stars
Of public honour and proud titles boast,
Whilft I, whom fortune of fuch triumph bars,
Unlook'd for joy in that I honour most.
Great princes' favourites their fair leaves spread
But as the marigold at the fun's eye,
And in themselves their pride lies buried,
For at a frown they in their glory die.
The painful warrior famoused for fight,
After a thousand victories once foil'd,
Is from the book of honour razed quite,
And all the reft forgot for which he toil'd:

Then happy I, that love and am beloved
Where I may not remove nor be removed.

XXVI.

Lord of my love, to whom in vaffalage
Thy merit hath my duty ftrongly knit,
To thee I send this written ambassage,
To witness duty, not to show my wit.:
Duty fo great, which wit fo poor as mine
May make seem bare, in wanting words to show it,
But that I hope some good conceit of thine

In thy foul's thought, all naked, will bestow it;
Till whatsoever ftar that guides my moving
Points on me graciously with fair aspect,
And puts apparel on my tatter'd loving,
To show me worthy of thy fweet refpe&t:
I dare to boast how I do love thee;

Then may
'Till then not how my head where thou mayst

prove me.